


just act, just prove

by Verdantei (Zerrat)



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Mission Fic, Post-Volume 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/pseuds/Verdantei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the fallout from Mountain Glenn, everyone has been treating Weiss as though she's turned to glass. When offered the chance to go on a stakeout with Blake, Weiss jumps at the chance prove herself - and to repair the strange awkwardness that had somehow soured their friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just act, just prove

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knightinsourarmor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinsourarmor/gifts).



Ever since the battle on the train and all that had happened in Mountain Glenn, things had been different. Sure, Weiss had messed up, that a White Fang warrior had been so close to tearing her apart with a chainsaw that on some nights she could still feel the blades roar against her aura, taste the bitter petroleum on her tongue - but everyone had started to treat Weiss as though she'd turned into glass. 

Oh, it had hardly been overt - Weiss would never have let _anyone_ get away with such disrespect. But over the space of the two weeks since, it had been... very difficult to ignore the way everyone's behaviour had shifted ever so slightly, each and every time leaving Weiss feeling off, a growing sourness in her mouth. 

It had been in the cautious words Ozpin had selected, when he'd finally found the time between mugs of coffee to debrief team RWBY. Weiss had long been willing to overlook some of the flaws in his leadership style, but she'd been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But then he'd offered her something warm to drink - as though she was a child to be coddled, to be soothed, reassured that _everything would be okay._

Headmaster or no, Weiss had merely met his words with a stony glare. She was a Schnee, and while she'd hardly been wanting for the finer things in Remnant, she had never once been _coddled_ by her father. 

Ozpin must have received the message, because he hadn't pulled a stunt like it since. But then, while he'd been the most obvious about it, he'd hardly been _alone_.

Some of it hadn't been so bad, even understandable. It was still hard to forget the way Ruby had looked at her, eyes wide and worried as the medics had checked her over. A clean bill of health - as if Weiss would have allowed for anything else, close as the call had been - aura depletion being the worst of it. 

They all had their problems, their hangups and Ruby's quiet fear of abandonment...

Ruby had been permitted one lightning-fast, bone-crushing hug. They were friends if nothing else, and _something_ had needed to be done to wipe that worry away. 

If that had been the last of it, Weiss would have been satisfied. She'd received no real harm, no unsightly new scar to add to her small collection. Everyone would have been able to move on with their lives, focusing instead on preparation for the Vytal tournament as Weiss had been urging for months now. 

But then Yang had pulled her aside in the days afterwards, her smile easy and her body language relaxed. The very sight of it had raised the hair on the back of Weiss' neck, even before Yang opened her mouth. 

"Can we reschedule our session today?" Yang's words had been light, almost offensively careless, as if she wasn't invested one way or the other what Weiss decided. "We all need to rest up, and there's some things I need to do. You know. A lady I gotta see."

Biting back the urge to flay her teammate with her tongue for the short notice, Weiss had instead shrugged, telling her it was fine. It had been hard not to notice the way Yang's shoulders had relaxed at her response, or the wariness that had lurked in her eyes, though. 

While Weiss had prickled over the exchange for days afterward, examining every syllable and twitch involved, the damage had been done. 

Yang hadn't rescheduled their hand-to-hand combat practice since then, blowing Weiss off with every excuse under the sun - she had to go see a guy about a dog. She had detention. She had to _wash her hair_.

Even Blake had begun to look at her differently, and that... that was perhaps the worst part of it all. Where before, there had been growing respect between them, Weiss quickly finding herself more and more invested in that slow-blooming openness behind Blake's amber eyes. Conversations over meals had grown more and more frequent, covering every topic from Dust fusion technique to literature. 

Where before, there may have been... suspicion, warmth and admiration had taken root deep in Weiss' chest, faster than she'd been able to believe, sweetening to outright affection. Blake found her way into her head, taking command of her attention - even when she wasn't present. 

Things had changed. There were only heavy silences where there had once been debates, conversation and verbal sparring. There were awkward evasions where once Blake would have met Weiss' gaze with a small smile. No matter how Weiss tried to draw her, tried to let her open up once more, she only found herself stonewalled at every turn, rebuffed without so much as a word. 

It soured deep in the pit of Weiss' stomach, cold and chilling.

Intellectually, she could _understand_ why, even if the whole fiasco was nothing short of galling. Of the team, she'd been the only one to slip up spectacularly, the only one who would have met her end on that train - if it hadn't been for Blake. 

_That's why they're treating me differently,_ Weiss told herself over and over, the words of her textbook a blur as she stared beyond it, her attempts at library study during the afternoon lull failing spectacularly. Of course, _nobody_ mentioned the slow-healing cuts and bruises on Yang's arms and ribs, or Ruby's continual propensity to wander off and find herself in trouble, or the blood that had matter Blake's hair to the side of her head. 

Did they even realise how they were treating her? Forget how offensive it was - that was the real question circling constantly through Weiss' mind, intruding on her every waking moment. Ruby had always thought more with her heart, not with her head, so as far as Weiss was concerned, maliciousness was beyond her. Her worry had been quickly tempered by those trademark bursts of enthusiasm, spending hours talking Weiss' ear off about a new combat manoeuvre sure to impress in the Vytal tournament. 

Ruby... Ruby was a problem in some respects, but Weiss could count on her to put everything she had into their friendship. 

Yang? The gods only knew what was going on with _her_ these days, between her late nights out on Vale's town and her subsequent detentions for those same continual disregard of Beacon's curfew -

"Hey." 

Weiss jerked so hard she nearly feel from her chair, mortified at having been caught stewing like some _moody teenager._ An apology already on her lips, Weiss looked up, meeting cautious, amber eyes.

 _Blake,_ Weiss' mind breathed, before freezing on her entirely. It had been weeks, only the barest courtesies exchanged between them - and now, she couldn't think of a single thing to communicate her thoughts. Slowly, Weiss felt her cheeks slowly turn red in painful mortification, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, only able to stare up at her teammate. 

"Are you... busy?" Blake tried, a thread of wary hesitation in her voice. That was not what Weiss wanted - at all! It was all the motivation she needed to rally and pull herself together. 

"No - I mean -" Weiss cut off then, internally cursing at how _eager_ she sounded just to be graced with Blake's attention once more. Clearing her throat, Weiss added with a touch more false serenity, "Not at all."

"Good," Blake said, and without further delay, she dragged out the chair opposite the library desk to Weiss and taking a seat. She leaned forward on her elbows, suddenly so close Weiss could smell her shampoo - apples. "I was hoping you could give me a hand with something tonight."

Given the wreckage their friendship had resembled for the past two weeks, perhaps Weiss should have hesitated. Her father had done his best to instil both caution and self-preservation in his children... But it was _Blake._ It felt as though there wasn't anything Weiss wouldn't do, just to return things to normal between them. 

"Absolutely."

Blake's eyebrows rose slightly, and gods it was wonderful just to see the corner of her mouth lift in a small, dry smile. 

"I haven't told you what this is all about yet. What if this is all a part of a daring plan to kidnap the Schnee heiress?"

"Hilarious." Weiss set her pen down on the desk and waving a hand. "Go on then. Enlighten me on what I've agreed to."

"A stakeout, if you really must know," Blake said, her tone bland as snow. "One of my old contacts says that a small gang from east Vale were... paying attention to Torchwick's schemes. Word is, they plan a strike on one of the Dust warehouses at the docks."

"That's where the company transport facilities are located," Weiss replied, frowning, before looking back to Blake sharply. "They're going after one of ours?"

"They are."

Weiss' immediate thought was to call SDC headquarters in Atlas - to let the company's security teams set up a little surprise when those would-be-thieves went through with their plan. 

But that wasn't why Blake was tipping her off, was it? A stakeout, at night? Weiss felt her stomach tighten, a thrill of adrenaline running down her spine. It could only mean one thing - Blake was finally ready to see her as a teammate, and not as some liability. 

_That_ alone meant more to Weiss than any rules or regulations, than angering her father, than any amount of property damage that would surely happen. 

Six months ago, she would never have let her hunger for action and recognition get the better of her, never let her feelings for a teammate compromise her judgement, and yet now... 

It was an odd thing to realise. 

"You're talking about vigilante justice," Weiss said finally after a moment, her words even and soft, belying the way her stomach had started to flutter. _Blake trusts me, Blake trusts me -_

"And you don't have a problem with that?" Blake pressed, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, amber eyes narrowed as she leaned forward, studying Weiss openly. 

Weiss snorted, closing her old textbook with a decisive thud. 

"Just how reliable is your contact?"

Blake's lips quirked then – was that amusement? Despite more than six months at Beacon together, Weiss still struggled to read her, even when attention lingered on Blake no matter how inappropriate the time. 

"Reliable. My contact also seems to believe it's going to go down tonight. So – what do you say?" The curve of Blake's lips deepened then, baring white teeth that seemed too sharp, those golden eyes gleaming predatory even in the warm library light. 

Weiss felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle, her pulse spiking. 

"Yes," Weiss told her, and this time, she _definitely_ sounded too eager - to pick a fight, to spend time alone with Blake... as far as Weiss was concerned, it was a bit of both. Clearing her throat, she amended, "It _is_ my family's interests we're talking about here."

Blake only offered her a shrug, the weakness of Weiss' covering lie apparently of little interest to her. "If we're going, it's going to need to be soon. It'll be dark before we know it." 

"Waiting for Yang and Ruby might mean we miss our chance," Weiss said, rising to her feet before stooping to slide her textbook into her bag, saying as she went, "Those two really do have the worst timing to land themselves in detention."

Blake made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat, apparently lukewarm on the idea of fussing about it further, and Weiss fell quiet, determined not to press her luck. 

They quietly agreed to meet out in one of Beacon's side gardens, near a low point in the academy wall that would let them slip over undetected. 

As she went to retrieve Myrtenaster, Weiss felt lighter, more optimistic than she had all week, and maybe there _was_ a spring in her steps - not that she'd admit such a thing aloud. 

Finally, a chance to redeem herself, a way to vent her frustrations on someone who deserved them. And she'd be able to prove it all to Blake tonight, just between the two of them.

What could be better?

###

That had been before Weiss had been backhanded with the realities of what a proper stakeout actually _meant_. They'd been stuck on the same dark, frozen rooftop for hours already, and their supposed targets still hadn’t made themselves known.

They'd set up camp across the docks on one of the other warehouses - once Blake had deemed there adequate cover - in easy view of SDC storage facility. In a strained sort of silence, they'd watched night fall over the docks, the activity below them finally growing quiet for the day. 

Quietly, it had been... easy to pretend Weiss was watching the sunset with Blake for more _romantic_ reasons, but she'd take what she could get. She really had enjoyed the way the sunlight had fallen across Blake's face and eyes, setting her in burnished golds and making her every feature impossibly perfect. 

Once the sun had fully set the chill had started up, and Weiss wrapped her arms around herself a little more firmly, her jaw clenched achingly tight just to quiet her chattering teeth. Forget the indignity – a Schnee did not show suffering from the _cold_ , after all – the sound of it had seemed embarrassingly, inordinately loud on the quiet warehouse rooftop. Blake hadn’t so much as arched an eyebrow over it, but then, she'd hardly needed to. 

In stark contrast, _she_ was deadly quiet, intense, her golden eyes almost unblinking as she focused on the wash of fluorescent light over the SDC warehouse roller doors the road over. Oh, it might look as if she wasn't paying mind to the teammate trying so hard not to shiver in the night chill, but Weiss knew her better than that. 

Her lips thinned, and if her gaze lingered again a little too long on Blake’s profile - obscured as it was with that dark scarf about her mouth - exactly who was going to judge? She looked back to the warehouse then, sighing. 

Even here, even now, Weiss couldn't help herself, the fact they were on a stakeout paling in comparison to the interest she had in her teammate's company. She should be more concerned about that - forget the Faunus aspect, the links with the White Fang, if her father caught wind of the distraction her teammate was causing her, he'd have a fit, withdraw her from Beacon and send her to one of the schools in Atlas - just like Winter had been. 

She _should_ worry, she should focus, and yet...

Weiss' gaze flickered away from the warehouse again, drawn inexorably back to the shadowy shape beside her, quiet and intense and as dedicated to her ideals and goals as anyone could ask. No matter how different they worlds they'd come from, Blake wanted to fight, to change the status quo of it - and that was something Weiss could well appreciate. 

It was a difficult and lonely fight, Weiss knew. When you were a lone voice, it was hard to invoke real change in anything, no matter how much money you threw at the problem. Things weren't that simple. 

They were never that simple. 

Perhaps Weiss had sighed just a trifle too loudly this time. Beside her, Blake shifted in the shadows, and it was difficult not to find her attention snared by the warm press of Blake's shoulder against her own, even the scent of her - crisp apples and leather.

"Hey," Blake said, her words coming soft and almost reluctant, hanging in the chilled air between them like some sort of uneasy offering. "Are you... doing okay?"

Weiss had to bite down on her first impulse to snap back with something scathing - _why wouldn't I be fine_ , or _don't you dare underestimate me._ The way the last two weeks still left her raw and defensive, of course they did, but it was the inflection in Blake's voice that forced her to take a breath and reconsider. 

She exhaled, settling her nerves, and instead, she said, "Wishing our imitation White Fang would do us a favour and show up already." Her lips thinned into a flat line. "Some of us still need to study for that Advanced Dust test tomorrow."

"As if you really needed to study the use of Dust," Blake replied, a thread of dry humour in her voice. 

"Very funny." 

Weiss squinted down at the warehouse roller doors. Just as it had been in all the hours until now, everything remained silent and still. Even the fluorescent lighting splashed across the SDC sigil hadn't so much as flickered, and a part of Weiss couldn't shake her suspicions - exactly what had Blake's source told her? Was it a set-up? Were they wrong about the date, and they'd been shivering on a dark rooftop for hours for no reason?

At her left, Blake exhaled softly, seeming content in allowing the awkward, uncomfortable silence between them to continue where it had left off. Complacency, or fear?

Well, Weiss wasn't about to let it be either. 

"Are you absolutely positive it's too late to bring Yang? She usually makes for an excellent portable heater."

That seemed to finally draw Blake's full attention, and Weiss heard her exhale again in a reluctant laugh. 

"I take it you're feeling cold?" she asked, and while the humour in her tone was thin, it was present all the same. Weiss heard her shift then, leather and fabric scraping over rough concrete, too loud in the dark - or perhaps was just that she was paying too much attention to Blake.

Glancing aside to the shadowy suggestion of her teammate, Weiss said archly, "If you recall, it was _you_ who decided that time was of the essence. I hardly had the time to grab so much as a jacket, let alone prepare."

Weiss heard Blake shift again, fumbling with fabric and buckles in the dark - _no_ , her mind was not going to the gutter, thank you - but she winced against the sudden light as Blake switched her scroll on. The pale blue backlight splashed across her features, lighting up her profile, the gold in her eyes, and abruptly, Weiss' breath froze in her throat. For one long moment, she was unable to look away as Blake tapped at her scroll.

"Yang should be done with detention by now, if you're serious about calling her." Blake's lips curled upward into a smile, then. "Can you imagine her on a stakeout like this?"

Oh, Weiss could certainly imagine it - half the warehouse would already be on fire, and they'd be well on their way to landing in another mandatory lecture with Goodwitch about huntress propriety and property damage. But Yang's lack of patience aside, this was still the first time in weeks she'd had the chance to spend any time with Blake. 

She was _not_ about to let the oppourtunity go to waste, so she couldn't quite stifle her irritation as she snapped, "Don't be absurd, Blake."

The backlight of Blake's scroll flicked off, but not before Weiss caught the widening of her smile. "Good." 

_Good_? Weiss' eyebrows rose, and given the awkwardness still lingering between them, she wasn't quite sure what _Blake_ considered so "good" about her answer at all. She knew why _she_ thought it was good, but Blake had been the one avoiding _her_. 

"Exactly what is that supposed to mean?" 

Offence had apparently not been factored into Blake's calculations. Weiss could practically _taste_ her sudden alarm, hear it in the quiet timbre of her voice as she replied too quickly, "Exactly what it sounds like." 

That was a non-answer if Weiss had ever heard one, and given how active she was in the SDC's affairs, she'd heard them all. Perhaps she should have gone easier on Blake, but tiptoeing around had hardly gotten them anywhere! She wasn't going to do their friendship a disservice by enabling her. 

Weiss had not been raised to enable _anything._ Blake was not an exception to that rule. 

"Enlighten me," Weiss said into the silence that had lapsed between them, her tone a little frosty, mimicking her father's when he'd finally tired of nonsense and redirection. "Please."

"Not now."

Weiss bristled. "What do you mean, _not now_ -" 

The rest of her words froze on her tongue as Blake's hand clapped over her mouth, cool and close. Too surprised to think to raise a hand, Weiss exhaled hard, suddenly dizzy with the smell of apples, the scent of Blake's shampoo. 

Scorching heat rose in Weiss' cheeks, and for one blinding moment of panic, all she could do was pray it wouldn't obvious to Blake's superior vision. 

She needn't have wasted the energy worrying, because Blake wasn't looking in her direction at all. Her entire body had gone rigid, her hackles all but raised as she stared hard at the SDC warehouse across the wharf. 

"Look," Blake breathed, her words barely a puff on the night air. 

Wordless, Weiss followed the cut of that amber gaze, to where a small van was winding its way through the streets toward the dock. That seemed innocent enough, but the intensity in Blake's expression didn't fade, and she looked again. As the van drew closer, Weiss could pick out the familiar SDC logo emblazoned on the side, but the dark balaclavas worn by its occupants spoke of another story entirely. 

_They're finally here,_ Weiss realised, swallowing, and maybe her stomach did twist, the memory of a chainsaw catching ragged against her aura. An intoxicating mix of fear and thrill prickled down her spine, suffusing her frozen body with an artificial warmth. 

Satisfied Weiss had understood the importance of silence, Blake's hand slowly withdrew, its owner rolling up into a ready crouch, her back pressed against the raised edge of the roof. Weiss followed suit, tucked into Blake's side and craning her neck to follow the path of the van. All of a sudden, she felt far too conspicuous in her Schnee whites. 

In contrast, Blake was a shadow, all but invisible even to Weiss.

Weiss' jaw clenched. Regrets were for lesser people, anyway. 

Silent, she and Blake watched the stolen SDC van roll up to the side of the warehouse, tense and ready. The skeleton crew of thieves, their actions furtive and nervous even at a distance. 

As they watched another SDC van arrive, Weiss had to give her dues to Blake's source. Their thieves didn't nearly have the planning or discipline of the heists organised by Torchwick. These were more the actions of a start-up gang finding inspiration in the idea of a little Dust burglary - or perhaps in something more sinister. 

Dust was a volatile fuel source, and it had to be handled carefully even by professionals who worked with it every single day. While the containers in that warehouse would be robust, there was still a chance the whole warehouse could go up - inadvertent or otherwise. 

Perhaps they wouldn't even made it past the warehouse's electronic security measures, but if those were bypassed...

Weiss' palm itched for the weight of Myrtenaster's hilt, for the adrenaline of a fight, the consequences of fighting in a warehouse full of Dust be damned. She wanted - no, _needed_ \- to prove herself to Blake, to anyone that asked! She wasn't afraid of the White Fang, or thieves, or Grimm, either. 

She wasn't afraid of anything. 

They didn't move to intercept the thieves outside the warehouse, a single, unspoken agreement passing between them in the space of a glance. If - and only if - the thieves found a way to bypass the electronic security, they'd feel assured of their success and their guards would drop. 

That would be when she and Blake would strike. 

The thieves lingered outside the warehouse for a handful of minutes, a few of their number working furiously with their scrolls, the others standing guard and watching both ends of the road. 

Finally, Weiss heard a shout - they were in, the AI security no longer an issue. 

She and Blake waited until the last of thieves had vanished inside the warehouse, before Blake rose to her feet. 

"Let's go then." Her teeth gleamed white in the dark, then. "Ladies first."

Amused but unwilling to admit it, Weiss settled for a roll her eyes, wordlessly twisting her wrist, the dials on Myrtenaster whirring softly. A pair of glyphs bloomed in the air before her, and she hopped from one to the next, moving with practiced ease until her heels finally hit the ground. 

Only then did she dare to look down at her skirt, dusting it off with a frown. If not for her aura, she was fairly certain she'd have ended up gravel rash all up her knees. Lying in the dirt for hours on end hadn't been exactly done favours for her whites, either. 

_Really,_ Weiss thought with a sarcastic twist of her mouth. _Who'd have ever thought?_

Blake landed at her side, a soundless shadow, drawing Weiss' gaze back to her immediately. There was something instinctive about the way she lingered, just on the edge of the light, a skill so hard-won it seemed natural. Weiss hadn't shied from the light - but then, she'd never needed to.

Exhaling to settle her nerves, Weiss set her eyes on the warehouse ahead, closing in on it with quick, purposeful strides, Blake following her lead just half a step behind. 

"The warehouse schematics I pulled up on the way showed an office entrance on the other side," Weiss said over her shoulder. "The offices would likely be a weaker security area with the AI down. It'll just be a matter of getting in."

Blake tilted her head, quiet, her amber eyes thoughtful as they both scanned the expanse of the warehouse before them. Then she nodded. 

"Consider it done."

She sounded entirely too confident for Weiss' tastes. Just what exactly was Blake planning to do? Despite her curiosity, Weiss held her tongue, the wash of lights out front of the SDC warehouse passing them by in what seemed to be a blink. Blake only stopped their advance for a moment, taking the time to slash both of the van's tires with Gambol Shroud. 

"Just in case some get away," she said.

Somewhat kicking herself that she'd not thought that far in advance, Weiss huffed. 

"Any ideas on how you're planning to get us in, then?" she asked as they finally reached the darkened side of the warehouse, approaching the office doors. Most of the lights were off, not a sign of anyone left back doing paperwork. 

_Good._

Blake's smile was fleeting, but there all the same as she asked, "What's the ventilation system like?"

"Cramped," Weiss told her, waving an irritable hand and scanning the doors. Blasting it open with Dust would work, but it would definitely draw the attention of their thieves. Kicking it in would be satisfying, but posed much the same problem. She cast her mind back, trying to recall the details of those schematics. The locking system on this part of the building was basic, not the state of the art Schnee tech that might have given Weiss some trouble. If she could just get the codes... 

Then she paused, frowning, realisation flashing to mind as she started, "Please tell me you aren't really going to do what I think you're going to do, are-"

Weiss cut off, staring over her shoulder at the place Blake _should_ have been. 

_Of course._ Weiss heaved a loud, long-suffering sigh as she backed away a scant few steps, her gaze tracking upwards to the overhang above the door. The small airvent covering hung down from just a single screw, barely attached, the interior pitch black with shadow. _Why am I even surprised?_

Maybe it only took seconds, and maybe it was minutes, but Weiss was still tapping her foot impatiently by the time she heard the locks on the door slide. Blake only opened it a crack, peering around the edge. Her expression was cautious, shrouded in darkness, only the light of her eyes visible in the second it took before she saw Weiss. 

Expression smoothing, Blake stepped aside, holding the door open for Weiss without a word. 

"Show off," Weiss couldn't help but scoff, and for all her feigned ire, the smile Blake sent her way was a trifle shy.

"Come on," Blake said, an edge of dry humour in her voice. "From the sounds of things, our thieves are having a few... issues."

Weiss joined Blake inside, Myrtenaster in hand, quietly glad to be in out of the cold. She hadn't been joking when she said she hadn't had time to grab much more than her bolero jacket, and despite the adrenaline rush, she was still feeling the cold. 

The interior of the office took the edge off, but it was quiet, still and dark, almost oppressively so, Blake reduced to just a faint outline in the blackness beside her. 

Weiss resisted the temptation to reach for her, just to reassure herself Blake was really there, before clenching her fist at her side with an internal groan. Unbelievable. Just how lovesick was she? 

Instead, she hauled her mind back on task, listening closely to the expanse of deserted warehouse around them. 

Just on the edge of her hearing - far shorter in range than Blake's, that was for certain - Weiss could hear the suggestion of voices, coming from what had to be the main storage and freighting area. From the pitch and volume, they were not in agreement. 

Adrenaline spiked anew in the pit of Weiss' stomach, the edge of it sending sweet chills down her spine. 

Cracking her first smile all night, Weiss looked to Blake, raising a hand invitingly. "It would be just rude to leave them to suffer, don't you think?"

She couldn't be entirely sure if Blake returned her smile, but maybe it touched her voice just a little as she answered,

"You read my mind entirely."

###

They flitted through the warehouse interior, Weiss taking the lead, Blake guarding the rear, moving beyond the rows of empty offices, the darkened doorways - and the stacks upon stacks of discarded Dust crates. As they'd passed by a pile that looked especially perilous, Weiss had to resist the urge to linger and snap a few photographs with her scroll as evidence. 

Frankly, the OH&S policy of this place was absolutely appalling, and certainly not to the Schnee standards. She refrained, however. It was hardly the time or the place to voice such things - not when they drew ever closer to the raised voices of the thieves, the sound of crowbars reverberating off the reinforced storage containers the Dust was kept in for shipping. 

Blake needed Weiss on the ball, watching her back, and Weiss needed Blake to know she was on-point. That she could _do_ this. 

Her thoughts circled on one another as they moved, the barely-there sound of Blake's shoes upon the concrete preying on her attention, the shift and clink of her buckles, the glint of thin light off the edge of Gambol Shroud, a constant reminder of every question. 

Why _had_ Blake even asked her? Why give Weiss a chance now, when she'd hardly had a thing to do to prove herself again? After tying herself in knots over a failure on a train for weeks... It didn't make sense. Blake wasn't cruel, but she didn't do charity, either. 

If it was charity, then... Weiss' jaw clenched hard. She had to know the real state of their friendship, that they were both on the same page after all. 

Doubt. It was the one thing Weiss hated more than _failure._

As they approached the final roller doors dividing the office area from storage and freight, Weiss finally sighed, curling her fingers more tightly about Myrtenaster's cold hilt. She felt Blake stop just beyond her, warm and close even in the dark. 

"You ready?" Blake asked, her voice just barely loud enough to catch. 

"Of course -" Weiss began, before hesitating, looking over her shoulder at the fuzzy suggestion of her teammate. She was so close Weiss could reach out and grasp her arm if she so wished, feel the warm flesh flex beneath her touch. That seemed like an entirely unwise idea, given the unresolved mess of her emotions. She needed answers first. "Before we go in... I need to ask. You could have brought anyone - even Sun. Why me? Why _now_?"

_When all of you seem to think I'm a monumental burden?_

Blake was silent, and for one terrifying moment, Weiss was certain she'd crossed that indistinct line of their friendship, ruining whatever delicate _something_ that lay between them. 

She willed herself to hold her tongue, still staring at where she estimated Blake's face to be, heart hammering in her chest. She refused to apologise for a perfectly valid, innocent question! 

But she couldn't help but wonder - what in the world could Blake be thinking so hard about, anyway? 

"We... haven't had much of a chance to talk," Blake said finally, her words slow and cautious, as if feeling out a reaction and afraid of what she would find. "Not since what went down at Mountain Glenn."

 _The Mountain Glenn,_ Weiss repeated silently, the very name of it stinging and bitter enough to force her blink it back, lest her body language betray how much the fallout had hurt. 

"We've been busy," she lied instead of admitting any of it. It wasn't that she wanted to hide it, or spare Blake - but if she ignored it, the whole situation somehow stung less. "With the Vytal tournament coming up -"

" _You've_ been busy," Blake cut in, her words more certain this time, almost self-recriminatory. "I... I've been avoiding it. Like some sort of coward."

 _It,_ Weiss thought, her jaw tight. _Avoiding it._

There was a veritable wealth of things Blake could be referring to, and this time, Weiss would have it of her. 

"Avoiding what, precisely?" she asked, and perhaps she did feel a prickle of anger at the undeniable confirmation. Of course she hadn't been imagining the change in Blake's behaviour! And of course she'd notice, Blake had seemingly commanded her attention for months now. 

She'd known all along, but hearing it outright still made her flinch, a furious ache starting up in her sternum. 

"You. Me." Blake gestured between them, indistinct in the thin light. She seemed to struggle for a moment, before looking away, her tone defeated as she added, " _Us_."

Weiss blinked - _that_ had not been the answer she'd been expecting at all, but her mind caught on a single, desperately vital detail. Blake thought there was an 'us', and that alone was so startling that Weiss' voice rose an octave as she demanded, " _Why_?"

"I - " Blake started, then froze. 

" _Blake._ " The name was no more than a sharp hiss of air, outraged that Blake would again try to evade the truth - even now! Before Weiss could demand more, demand _answers_ , Blake was moving, her shoulder slamming hard into Weiss' chest, the momentum hurling them both to the ground just as gunfire tore through the roller door.

Blake's body was heavy and warm, soft and hard in a way that sent every nerve in Weiss' own to thrilling. She fisted her fingers in the front of that black scarf, breathing in soft dark hair in a way that made her head _swim_.

"I think they heard you!" Blake shouted above the roar, still crouched over Weiss protectively. The sound of gunfire ricocheting off the broad edge of Gambol Shroud on her back was near deafening, and her arms tensed around Weiss. 

They rolled away from one another the moment there was a break in gunfire, the colour hot in Weiss' cheeks as she scrambled for whatever was left of her shredded dignity. 

"Oh, for the love of -" Weiss snarled, hurling her words in the direction of where the culprits of her shame lurked beyond the shredded remains of the roller doors. Without sparing Blake so much as a glance, she spun the dials on Myrtenaster, the kid gloves officially off as she decided on a mix that would incinerate everything in its path but a heavy duty crate. Risky, but... She'd had enough. 

"Can't you idiots understand we were _trying_ to have a conversation here?"

"Weiss, this isn't the time!" Blake snapped, still crouched down where she'd taken shelter beyond the solid part of the wall.

Weiss' eyes only narrowed, and she twisted Myrtenaster with a flick, sending a bolt of red fire from its tip to tear the door full away. 

"Will it _ever_ be the time?" she demanded, her words punctuated by an explosion and the shriek of metal as it folded inward. As the shorn-up remains of it skidded out into the warehouse beyond, she heard voices raised in alarm, but her attention snapped back to Blake, furious. "You can't just talk about this like an adult? This doesn't only involve _you_ , Blake! I spent weeks getting the cold shoulder, and this was why? Of all the _juvenile_ -"

"Can we talk about this later?" 

"Oh, we _will_ be. I won't stand idly by and let you play games with our friendship!" 

Blake's eyes were slitted when she rose to Weiss' side, Gambol Shroud glinting in her hands, her teeth bared in a snarl. Weiss only narrowed her eyes further, still taken by the cold fury raging in her chest. 

She didn't have time for this. Perhaps Blake _was_ right. Smoke had started to fill the warehouse, and while there was no continuing gunfire from within, it was only a matter of time. She turned away from her teammate, mouth set in a hard, bitter line. Before she could stalk off to vent her anger on the thieves, Blake's hand shot out, seizing Weiss by the wrist so hard it would surely bruise. 

"It's not, and never _has_ been a game!" Blake hissed, and no matter the sound of yelling or the choking burn of smoke in the air, her amber eyes were fierce. "Look, if you can't understand why I'd be reluctant to -"

Weiss' teeth bared, and she snatched her wrist from Blake's hand. "Don't take me for a fool!"

"Then why not stop acting like one?"

"Don't you dare -" Weiss cut off at the sound of an explosion, and she realised belatedly that she might have injected a little too much firepower in her spell. She pinched the bridge of her nose, mentally calculating the risks. Fantastic. And not bringing Yang had been meant to mean less property damage...

Blake was the one who looked aside first, her eyes narrowing in the orange light cast by the flames. 

"Let's just deal with this."

"Agreed."

Together, they passed through the wreckage of the roller door and into the smokey warehouse beyond. No matter Weiss' bubbling anger with Blake, the synergy between them hadn't faded in the slightest, and moved as one, smoothing keeping pace.

Blake might not have been Weiss' primary partner, and perhaps that was just as well. But if there was one thing Beacon strove to develop in their hunters, it was that teams should be able to work as cohesive units in a fight - regardless of what percentage of it was present and able to fight. She and Blake had always worked flawlessly together, their early personality conflicts aside, filling in one another's weaknesses without stumble. 

Both Blake and herself had always put great stock in pin-point accuracy, a style of fighting in which the turn of a blade or the length of a ribbon was the difference between victory and defeat. _Yes_ , Weiss had erred in her judgement on the train. She'd gotten overconfident, she'd been preoccupied with what it meant to send Blake on ahead to face Roman Torchwick alone. She'd been worried. 

Mistakes were too easy in this line of work - but that was something they'd all thought they'd agreed on, hadn't they? They'd all signed up for it, consequences be damned. 

Weiss' jaw clenched until it ached, bitter retributions igniting in a frozen fire in her chest as she glared at where the thieves scrambled to reorient themselves after the blast. 

Loud enough to leave her voice cracking, Weiss announced to them, "You all have until the count of three to lay down your weapons - and surrender. One."

She spun the dials on Myrtenaster, casting an eye over the crates of Dust the thieves had been attacking with crowbars. Nothing appeared to be breached, so she was free to use as much Dust as she wished - within reason. Satisfied the danger was minimal, Weiss turned her attention back to the more immediate threat.

A quick headcount put their numbers at ten, all of them looking bruised up and soot-streaked from her admittedly overpowered Dust array. Low-level would-be gangsters attempting to fill the power vacuum Torchwick's operation had left when team RWBY had shut it down - even just a glance told Weiss enough. 

They were no threat, not really. They didn't even know enough to tell how completely outclassed they really were. At her arrival, at being given a target, they'd started to turn their weapons on her. As if it _mattered_.

"Two."

"Weiss," Blake hissed at her back, and Weiss could practically feel her bristling with tension. She understood - allowing any enemy the chance at first strike went against Blake's very nature. 

But really, Weiss had had enough of heeding Blake's tender feelings - at least for now. 

A man to Weiss' left laughed beneath his breath then, openly derisive as he rested his saber-class gunblade on the raised collar of his coat. He was a big man, barrel-chested and his bared arms corded with muscle, and for a moment, he looked too much like the White Fang lieutenant, the hazy suggestion of a white mask brought on by Weiss' imagination alone. Behind his balaclava, his eyes glinted - cruelty, or was it merely misplaced conceit?

"Oh, I see how it is! You're a Schnee, aren't you?" The man's teeth bared in a snarl, a swagger in his step as he advanced on her slowly. "Your bastard family always wears that sigil of theirs on their backs - some might call it pride. Me? I just reckon your arrogance makes for _good target practice!_ "

Weiss flashed hot with anger. but she didn't allow it to best her. Instead, she lifted her chin, her expression frozen and cold. 

"Three."

He snarled, feral and furious, lunging forward, gunblade thrusting forward in a lightning-fast jab given force by his trigger. Weiss whirled, all grace and impossible precision, meeting the man's blade in a fleeting, ceding parry. It wasn't a hard block, really only barely enough to turn his blow aside. But it was exactly as planned, giving her precious moments to redirect and regroup, melting away under his strike like ice in the springtime sun. 

The breath hissed out between her teeth, and undaunted, she stared up at the leader's smirk. 

She was going to enjoy this. 

Somewhere behind her, Weiss caught the sound of Blake growling beneath her breath and perhaps muttering a few choice words, but she hardly had the time to sit back and watch the other thieves rush to support their leader in battle. 

Of course, there would be a lot of them, but Blake had always been able to handle crowd control. Weiss believed in her, even if that sort of belief was too much to ask for in turn. No matter the bitterness that scorched in her chest, though, when Weiss locked her gaze with the leader's...

She darted back, aura fed to her legs to give her a touch more speed, flashing parries raising sparks about them as the leader pressed his attach. It was hard to ignore the sharp thrill of adrenaline through her bones at every screech of metal, the way it soaked all the way through her. She'd craved this - a fight. Redemption, even. 

She'd _show_ Blake, and maybe that would be enough for things to return to normal between them. 

The moment the leader hesitated, springing back to reload and give himself space to breathe, Weiss chose that moment to strike. She flashed forward, white glyphs of light at her feet propelling her even faster, the use of her semblance like sweet release in her veins. It was an addictive sort of rush, and between that and her adrenaline, it tasted like a heady cocktail. 

Her blows glanced off the edges of his gunblade, turned aside with both grace and precision that may have rivalled her own at moments. However, that hardly meant he wasn't a rookie, that he wasn't so far out of his league he no longer knew it. Perhaps he'd spent a little time in Beacon or some other combat school - enough to leave him with some knowledge of semblance and aura, enough guts to take hold of the advanced weapons tech in his hands. For all his bravery, the man was half-baked, and it was crystal clear to Weiss that he had no concept of higher strategy. 

What did it matter that he turned aside Weiss' thrusts with a sneer? She devoured his ground with painstaking stubbornness, pacing herself with frozen precision. Riposte and parrying kept him uncertain, off-balance, and the more he danced away from Myrtenaster's razor point and the threat of glyphs beneath his feet, the more clear their difference in skill became. 

_This is really too easy,_ Weiss thought with gritted teeth, ducking beneath one of the man's wider, desperate swings and angling the point of her sword where he'd left his ribs and stomach exposed. She'd needed a challenge, and with his cocky posturing, she'd frankly expected _more_. 

Before she could appropriately eviscerate him, the leader swore and jerked his upper body, messily side-stepping the lunge. Sweat was freely running into his eyes as he staggered back a step, off-balance and finally realising it. 

"Your grandstanding doesn't quite live up to reality," she hissed, locking her blade with his gunblade's, throwing the words right up into his flushed, snarling face. 

"Big words with no follow-through - sounds real _familiar_ ," he managed, and his teeth bared, his entire strength behind his blade as he tried to bear down on her - only to find himself barred the moment she focused her aura. He gasped, hitting his limit but never letting up, no matter how his arms shook, refusing to give her ground. "You Schnees are nothing but filthy hypocrites, and we're not going to stand for it any longer!"

He pivoted, the trigger of his gunblade roaring through Myrtenaster before she could think to withdraw. Her arm went dead from the vibration, and it was from shock alone she kept hold of her blade. It was not enough to help her, when her weapon was down at her side, the butt of his gunblade filling her vision -

"Weiss!"

Stars exploded before Weiss' eyes, and she couldn't manage to keep her feet through the white-hot pain lancing through the side of her head. She fell to one knee, clutching at the side of her head. Vaguely, she heard gunfire, heard her target grunt and retreat to deflect bullets with his blade, but the roar of the shot through Myrtenaster... It hadn't quite been chainsaws, but the shock of reality burned just the same. Warm blood bloomed, dripping hot and fast between her fingers, down her ear, staining her bolero with red. 

_Not again._ The desperation behind the thought was near-blinding, and baring her teeth, Weiss staggered to her feet, her head swimming, the chaos of battle all around her. The shout and gunfire swam into her mind, but when she looked up, the leader was waiting for her. Had she imagined it? 

The leader levelled his gunblade at her then, exhausted - but confident. 

"Ain't here to be stepped on by a little Schnee," he said, lips curling in a jagged smile. "So why don't you lie down and die already?"

Weiss wiped at the blood running in her ear with the heel of her palm, snarling every recrimination she could think of at herself for her sheer stupidity, still barely able to focus for the pain. She'd sworn to herself that this time, it would be different. 

She hadn't imagined that shout or the gunfire, had she? This was hardly going to prove anything to Blake, anything to _herself,_ and... 

It was time to take his seriously, no matter how addictive the thrill of danger was, how easily she could slip into satisfying her own taste for it. Lifting her chin in icy regard, she whirled Myrtenaster, the end of it dancing and flashing as she selected a combat array of Dust more suited for... balance. 

She was moving the instant he was, the tip of Myrtenaster flicking downwards in a deadly Dust-laced summoning. Jagged waves of ice bloomed at just a brush of her semblance, the vicious arc racing across the floor, tracking the leaders evasive leap. 

_He'll convert to projectiles,_ Weiss guessed, and the moment he was able to right himself in mid-air, she swirled Myrtenaster across her body, a wide blue glyph shimmering into existence just in time to absorb the scattering of gunfire he sent her way. 

He was no White Fang warrior, she reminded herself, cold as ice, and she knew better. 

The moment there was a break in fire, Weiss let the shield gylph dissipate, pivoting and summoning half a dozen white glyphs about the room with another flick of her wrist, a touch more Dust just to make them potent. 

The man stumbled, nearly falling, but Weiss pressed her advantage, darting from one glyph to the other, letting the reflective momentum of the repellant force within them add to her speed. Setting Myrtenaster to one final red-gold Dust mix, she rained down blows against his half-baked aura, a merciless, unrelenting storm until it shattered beneath her will. 

The leader fell to his knees, dazed from the trauma of his aura breaking and leaving him vulnerable. Furiously, Weiss considered him, her entire body hot and trembling with energy she couldn't quite understand how to contain. 

A part of her wanted to end him, give him as little mercy as she herself would have been shown back on the train but - this was different. These were nothing more than a motley group of home-grown gangsters, trying to mirror the actions of the White Fang. 

He was still an _asshole_ though, and whatever use a minor gang had for industrial strength Dust...

Weiss sent her heel into the side of the man's head, knocking him out cold, wiping at the cooling blood at the side of her head, at the sweat threatening to run into her eyes before finally casting her gaze around the ruined shipping floor.

The rest of the warehouse was quiet. The chaos of fighting was over, the remainder of the crew in boneless heaps where they'd fallen. She'd been lucky - the fires she'd lit had been unable to tear through the reinforced casing SDC kept the Dust in, and without further fuel it looked as though they'd burn themselves out before emergency crews arrived. 

Which... based on the fiasco this venture had become, would not be far away. 

Blake herself stood back, perched atop one of the crates the gang had been digging at, her fingertips tracing the nicks and grooves the thieves' crowbars had made. She looked exhausted, a graze on her cheek and soot on her skin, but...

She'd finished her fight far earlier, it seemed. Weiss remembered the desperate sound of her shout, the intervening gunshots that had forced the leader back a few steps at the crucial do-or-die moment. Of course it stung, given Weiss' wounded pride and that she'd been trying so hard to prove a point, but they were also teammates, and assistance was all part of that. 

But when things had come down to it, Blake had stepped back again, letting Weiss continue the fight to finish it on her own terms. 

Struck wordless, Weiss only stared at her for a long moment, completely blindsided by the simple show of faith at a time when she'd felt like there had been none. It... meant everything. 

Slowly, hoarsely, Weiss began to laugh, breathless and quiet and glad. Her whites were filthy with blood, smoke and grime, she was exhausted, injured, and she'd so nearly messed up again. 

But she felt _alive_. Better, she felt right again for the first time in weeks, and the warmth in Blake's eyes finally...

"Weiss?" Blake said, sliding down from her seat on the crate, eyebrows rising in confusion as she closed the distance between them in quick, worried strides as Weiss only continued to laugh. "Did he hit you a little to hard in the head, or -"

"I'm -" Weiss exhaled sharply, and even then it was an effort to swallow her exhausted, strange laughter. She still felt giddy with adrenaline, pain, _victory._ She lifted her chin, looking up at Blake, unable to keep herself from smiling. "I'm fine, Blake."

Blake's amber eyes flickered up and down, slow realisation dawning in her expression. 

"You... are," Blake said, finally, her cheeks flushing red even in the strange mix of fading orange firelight, fluorescent lighting and darkness. But her gaze didn't flicker, and this time, she wasn't backing away. "I think I understand that now."

"I..." Weiss started, still staring at her, the words dying in her throat as her brain ground to an unceremonious halt. Lit up in orange fire, her dark locks wild and askew, victorious... 

Blake was absolutely breathtaking after a fight. 

_It has to be the adrenaline talking,_ Weiss told herself, but the idea of just leaning forward, sliding her fingers through those dark locks of hair, tasting smoke and violence on Blake's lips was so attractive she couldn't think of anything else, suddenly aching for the _us_ Blake had admitted to just minutes before. 

She watched Blake's throat bob as she swallowed, her gaze flickering down to Weiss' lips, her want so open and plain it made Weiss' stomach knot up to see for sure. 

They stared at one another, wordless, only the ragged draw of Weiss' breath filling the silence between them. 

Blake met her halfway in a crash of mouths and tongue, desperate and hungry and brutal. Thoughtless but for a single concept - _more_ \- Weiss seized the front of Blake's scarf in her bloodied fingers, dragging her down and close, until she could feel Blake's body flush against her own, hot and solid and -

She let out a low groan at the clasp of Blake's hands at the small of her back, the desperate dig of her fingertips as she felt herself pulled up, as if Blake needed her as close as possible, needed to reassure herself that Weiss was fine, _they_ were fine. 

And they _were_ fine. Bare minutes ago, Weiss had wanted nothing more than for things to return to the way the'd been before Mountain Glenn, but this was far, far better. 

At the distant sound of alarms, Weiss pulled back just a little, just to catch her breath, but Blake pursued, her mouth hot and wanting. She tasted like blood and victory, the slick slide of her tongue against Weiss' own enough to banish every thought and worry possible, until all she knew was Blake and Blake alone.

Finally satisfied, Blake pulled away, resting her forehead against the side of Weiss' neck, nose brushing the hair beneath Weiss' ear. "I was afraid."

Weiss didn't say anything, but she tightened her grasp in Blake's scarf, a gentle tug for more. The emergency sirens were growing closer, louder, but this was something she needed to hear now. 

"I feel like every time I gain something, _stability,_ it just... goes to hell." Blake's exhale was warm and ticklish on Weiss' throat, but that didn't hide the bitter resignation buried within. "I was afraid it would happen with the team. And when I saw you almost die, I wondered if... it was a good thing, if I started to... Feel something for you."

"So you tried to run."

"As much good as it did me." Blake hesitated, pulling back. "But by putting distance between us, it felt as though I lost you anyway."

"Leading to tonight," Weiss concluded, sighing softly. "You're a bigger idiot than Ruby at times, I swear... but I suppose I understand."

It wasn't a like, or even a stretch of the truth. So much of what Weiss was now, even what she was _trying_ to be, was rooted in her past. Blake was the same .

 _They_ were the same. 

Blake tightened her grasp on Weiss' waist, murmuring. "Those sirens. We'll need to leave soon, unless you want to stay to explain "vigilante activity" to the police..."

Dry mockery aside, it was not a conversation Weiss wanted to have with Goodwitch - or her father. 

"Agreed. Somewhere... quiet." She cast a sidelong look at Blake, still mussed and bruised from her own fight, then to herself - grazed and bloody - and then reconsidered how her words could be construed. "I mean - I - I could do with some first aid before we go back to Beacon."

"Of course." Blake cast her a look, the amused tilt of her mouth warm as they made for one of the warehouse exists at a jog.

"Some... kissing is hardly out of the question while we patch ourselves up," Weiss added, answering Blake's look with one of her own. She couldn't quite hold that amber gaze without her cheeks flushing hot, and irritably, she added, "Just to be clear."

"As crystal."

They kept moving through the darkened warehouse offices, Weiss just a few steps behind Blake. The sirens were so close they had to be nearly on top of the warehouse by now, and yet...

"Blake?" Weiss ventured, slowing. 

"Yeah?" Blake turned back to her, all shadow and warmth in the darkness, and this time, Weiss did reach out for her. Her fingers found the knitted length of Blake's scarf, and her heart thundering in her ears, she tugged her teammate in for a quick, fleeting kiss once more. 

"Thanks."

Blake laughed then, soft and pleased, the back of her fingers brushing Weiss' cheek. "Let's go."


End file.
